By Robert

There’s a prison called Anxiety

a place within grey walls

it’s treason walled – piracy —

I think to me it called —

caressed by its deity

on my own inside wall —

naked alone

humility and all

shackled to pretence — Him

living a life not tall

serving my own sentence

for obeying my every fear – I fall


I peer through small windows

standing frail and fragile and thin

beaten by the prison guard

my brain — that hurtful thing

and I saw nothing — even no love

never did see any — god above

just me in chains I’m torn —

inside my war – there is no dove —


so I writhed across the asylum floor

crying – trying a hopeless track

but he drags me back —

a screeching roar


where my thoughts are stinging

because I think they are false — stuck —

the locks are only opened

when I am free of faults

and though the seascape of my emo

holds oceans of sweet thoughts

it’s frozen in iced limbo —

inside the cell — I’m – distraught –


and then — it melted to my tears —

and I now do stand tall —

but I locked me up for years

for nothing — I did wrong — at all


By Robert



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